Rhythm That I Have Grown To Love Pt 2
by JuwahBel
Summary: Ha ha! Yet another post Blind Spot story. This is Pt. 2 to Rhythm that I Have Grown To Love where it is in Alex's POV instead of Bobby's.


(Note: Someone said that I should try and do this story from Alex's POV, so I did. I don't like it that much. For some odd reason I can write better using a male point of viewthis might be because I would love to know what men think. Just so you know, writing for Alex was a challenge for me. So, enjoy it even though it sucks!) 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale Exhale.

His breathing comforted me in the dark. I had been up for 10 minutes before I let him know I was awake. I closed my eyes and imagined him sitting in that uncomfortable seat, his feet up on the other chair, his head leaning on his hand with his hand just above his brow. He must have been there for hours, waiting for me to wake up.

I had been asleep, so I hadn't been able to enjoy the peace in the room,but now I had ten minutes to call mine. Ten minutes where I could listen to his breathing and not worry about him knowing about it. Ten minutes when he didn't have his barrier up.

"Bobby?" I felt bad about laying there awake and him not knowing it.

"I'm here, Alex." His voice sounded tired, worn out.

My hand went out, searching for him. I grasped his wrist. It was bare and warm. It felt wonderful against my skin. I wanted to say so many things then. I wanted to apologize for not listening to him, believing that I would be okay, for leaving. So many things were running through my head then, but nothing escaped. I kept it all within so he wouldn't know how I truly felt.

He placed his other hand on top of mine and I felt a warmth creep over my body. Goosebumps rippled along my skin. Hopefully he didn't notice that I was shivering from his touch.

His hands were now enclosing mine. It felt good to be touching him. His hands were comforting. Soon, I felt the pain of my bruises and cuts fade.

"How long have you been here?" It hurt to speak, but I got the words out. My voice was hoarse from the yelling….I still can't believe that it happened to me. Stuff like that happens to others, not to me, not to anyone I know.

"Since they brought you in." The fatigue was evident in his voice for sure. He was now leaning forward. I turned my head to face him.

The break in the curtain was behind him, so I could see his sillouhette. His hair was messy and I could tell he had his shirt open. He had been here for longer than he needed to be.

I relaxed my shoulders and closed my eyes. "What time is it?" All that came out this time was a whisper but he was close enough to where he could hear me. His breathing was broken now, and all I could do was wish that he would lay back in the chair and give me that pattern that I had grown to love.

"Its about 4 in the morning." I turned my head back to where I was looking up. I felt a tickling in my ear. He had moved closer and was breathing heavier. "You should go back to sleep."

"I've been knocked out for the past several hours, I think you're the one that needs to sleep." My voice was growing louder. I wanted him to feel better, to sleep, to be his old self. I didn't want him by my bedside (even though I don't want to admit it!) worrying about me.

"No, I'm fine." I couldn't help but want to say _liar _but I held it in. "I asked for the next couple of days off, so if you need anything, just ask."

"Oh, what will the New York City criminals do without the great Robert Goren at their heals?" I couldn't help but feel special because he had never taken a day off before and he was breaking his perfect attendance to take care of me. My body warmed over.

There was no response, no laughter. I couldn't even tell if he was smiling or not. "Bobby...?"

"I can stay if you want. You know, to sneak you in some real food, wash your therapeutic slippers, or even change your bed-pan." His laughter was soft. It was kind of cute how he was using his nervous laughter. I had always noticed that he laughed differently depending on his mood. He had his nervouse laugh where it was more smile and a little chuckle, he had his 'thats funny that you said that now I am going to arrest you' laugh that was sort of a crazed, psycho laugh, and then he had my favorite laugh: the playful laugh that was full on smile and his face turned red.

"Right. Like I'm letting you anywhere near my bedpan." For some reason my hand squeazed his. I didn't mean to, but I guess my true feelings were channeling my hand. I bit my lip in the dark, regretting that I had done it but he didn't seem like he cared, he juse squeezed my hand back.

"Ow...!" He exclaimed. At first I thought it was from my squeezing his hand, but then I realized that he was messing around.

We sat there for a few minutes in the dark. I noticed he was breathing slowly again. I closed my eyes and just listened to him for a while. "Bobby?" For some reason, I just wanted to make sure he was still there, that I wasn't dreaming his presence. I felt him next to me, i felt his breath, I could feel the indention in my bed where his elbow was on the mattress.

"Yes, Alex?" He was real, he was really there.

Then, I said something that I was hoping I wouldn't say. I said something that I had always wanted to say, but I had never gotten up the guts to do.

"Stay with me..."


End file.
